


Everything Has Changed

by booksarebetter



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Falling In Love, Mistakes, Repairing Relationships, parenting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-04-06 16:28:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4228848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/booksarebetter/pseuds/booksarebetter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peeta has been reeling for the almost three years, left by the one person in the world he loved. He's tried so many times to get over her, but nothing seemed to help. Then without any notice, the woman who broke him is back in his life with a secret that will change everything. Modern Day AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Oh, god, Peeta, YES!”

The name-less, face-less chick moans my name, and I feel her clench around me, an orgasm hitting her again. I continue to pump myself into her, not quite there yet. She’s pretty enough, with medium length dirty blonde hair, spread out on her pink pillow, but I’m tired of meaningless sex. I mean, yeah, it feels great, but it’s boring. I want the love again.

I pick up my pace, pounding her deep and hard, ready to get this over with. One, two, three, and I slam her hard, and spill myself into the condom, filling the tip. I immediately roll off of her and lie on my back. She crawls up my side and leans her head on my bare chest.

“God, you’re so good. I came three times,” she pants, kissing my pec and running her right hand up and down my stomach. 

“Um, thanks,” I mumble. “It was good for me too.” I guess. But not as good as her. I push thoughts for her out of my head and turn my face back to the chick who’s naked next to me. I lean in a kiss her pink lips, swollen from our previous acts.

“I have to go, actually,” I say. I tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear. “I’m really sorry.”

I slip out of bed and begin to dress, grabbing my clothes from all over her room. It was kind of a frenzied thing, and she basically jumped me as soon as I walked into the bar. It literally took her ten minutes before we were leaving and heading back to her place; she was an eager one. I pull the condom off and discard it in the garbage before pulling on my boxers and then my jeans.

“Uh, okay.” I look over to her, pulling up the covers to hide her bare chest. “Do you want to call me so we can do this again sometime?"

I nod. “Absolutely, Meg.” Not.

She frowns. “It’s Madge.” I cringe. Fuck.

“I’m really sorry.” And I am. I’m sure she’s a wonderful girl, maybe a little slutty, and I wish that I wanted to be with her for more than one night. I wish I wanted to be with anyone for more than one night. I crawl back on the bed and kiss her again, swiping my tongue along her bottom lip—trying to make up for my mistake. I pull away and she smiles at me. I take a sigh of relief. “I had a great time, don’t worry.” When did lying get so easy for me? I used to hate lying, and now I seem to do it every time I meet a girl.

She smiles brightly and I move back off the bed and head to her door. I give her a quick wave and duck out, without any intention of ever seeing her again. 

..............................................................................................................................................................................................................................

“So, how was it?” Gale asks as soon as I walk through the door. He’s sitting on the couch, going over the lyrics of one of his new songs. He’s a lyricist, not really in front of the microphone, but behind it—and he’s incredibly good at it. I mean, he basically bought this three bedroom house for the two of us, and I just pay him for utilities and cable. He glances at the clock and sees that it’s barely 1:00 a.m.; he hisses. “Not good, I guess. Struck out?”

I shake my head. “Nah, I got the jackpot. But the kind where you win tokens and not coins. She was pretty enough, but…”

“She’s not her,” Gale finishes for me. I nod. He knows me too well.

Gale and I have been roommates since we met our freshman year at Panem University. And even though we’re graduates, and have been for two years, we still room together—unable to get out of the pattern. But best friends don’t have to grow out of anything—I think that’s kind of the point. They are there with you for the hard stuff, but they’ve also been with you through the immature stuff—and that is the stuff you remember the most, because it’s happier; like egging our professor’s car for giving Gale a D or watching Gale streak through the park past a group of third graders. 

“Dude, I know you’ve heard me say this a billion times, and as much as I don’t want to say it again, I will,” he says, setting down his usual glass of bourbon onto our scratched, wooden coffee table. “You should try to find someone better than her.” He runs his hand through his messy brown hair.

I shake my head. “There’s no such person,” I whisper.

Gale rolls his eyes. “Peet, I love you bro, but it’s been almost three years!”

“She was the one, Gale. And she ran away—scared of her feelings. And now she’s half across the country.” I cross my arms over my chest. “You just don’t understand.”

Gale stands up off the couch. “You’re right. I don’t.” He exits the living room, shaking his head and taking his glass with him and walks towards his bedroom. 

I head to my room too and begin to shed my clothes for bed. You can’t just “get over” your soul mate. And sure, we had some issues—I mean, she was sullen and moody and outspoken and I wasn’t, but we balanced each other out. Love does that to you. I believe if you love someone—truly love them—then the faults just fade away. You find the ability to look over them or embrace them—because they are it for you. And I thought she was it for me. 

When I’m just in my boxers, I crawl under my covers and try to fall asleep—but all I see is her face. Laughing, kissing my cheek, nuzzling my neck, whispering “I love you” into my ear, glaring at me with her beautiful grey eyes; she was broken, but we were broken together. Her beauty overshadowed everyone on this God forsaken place we call earth. She was my best friend.

.................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

The grocery store is empty the next morning, and I wander effortlessly through the aisles, grabbing things off our mile long list. Gale and I don’t really go shopping that often, so when we do, we buy out the whole store—our cart filled to the brim. I grab two boxes of cheerios and turn down the produce aisle. I have to finish all the shopping and a few other errands before work, but I’ve still got five hours. I own a bakery a few blocks from mine and Gale’s apartment. It was handed down to me by my father when he passed away a few years ago, and though I have two older brothers, but none of them were interested in taking up the family business—and I was. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. And my bitch of a mom has been gone for years, so why would my Dad pass it to her? Especially after how she’s treated us while we grew up.

I lean down to grab a head of lettuce when a flicker out of the corner of my eye causes me to look up. I look down the aisle and see her. My breath hitches. What is she doing here? I thought she was supposed to be in Los Angeles, not in Dumb-Fuck, Virginia. 

“Katniss?” I ask, incredulously. The beautiful woman looks over to me, her chocolate braid flipping around her head.

“Peeta?” Her beautiful lips form my name and I feel my pulse spike, just like it did when we were together. I’ve been in love with her since I was a kid, but she never even gave me the time of day until our Freshman year of college when Gale and I happened to take Psych 101 with her. When she smiled at me for the first time, the whole world made sense, and I knew I would never be the same. And I haven’t. 

I stand back up, and step away from the food and walk down the aisle towards her. She’s holding a small child in her arms, but I don’t focus on that. All I see is her. It’s been over two and a half years since I’ve seen Katniss—the person I thought I would love forever. And I know I will, but her forever didn’t seem to be as long as mine.

“How are you?” I ask when I finally reach her. All I want to do is tuck the stray piece of hair that’s fallen from her braid behind her ear—like I’ve done a thousand times before. But I can’t anymore. And it kills me.

She smiles shyly and my heartbeat practically becomes audible. “I’m good. How are you?” Katniss shifts the girl onto her right hip and my eyes flick to her for a second. 

“Good. I’m good too.” I grin at her, then smile at the little girl. “And who’s this?” I ask, reaching out my hand to her. The girl giggles and buries her face in Katniss’s neck. I laugh.

“This is Prim.”

My eyes widen. “Like your sister?” She nods her head. Katniss’s sister died when Kat was just a teenager and her sister was only twelve. She never talked to anyone about it—except me. There was a fire one night when Prim was staying at her best friend’s house and she was trapped; her friend died as well. My heart beats in my chest, nervous adrenaline running through my veins. If her name is Prim…

“So she’s yours?” I ask. Again, Katniss nods her head. 

“Prim, this is Peeta,” she says. Prim removes her head and looks at me again. I reach out my hand again and tickle her side. She giggles, thrashing around in Katniss’s arm, her blond hair flying about. I grin.

“How old is she?” This little girl is so cute. It almost makes me forget that the love of my life has another man’s child.

“Almost two,” she whispers, her eyes casting downward, avoiding my gaze. My eyebrows pull together. Two? I look back at Prim. Her hair is a very dirty blonde, her curls sticking up haphazardly all over her head. She has high cheekbones like Katniss and her same nose and same long eyelashes. But it’s the eyes I focus on. They are bright blue and eerily familiar. 

“Katniss?” I look away from the little girl and back to the girl I’ve loved since I was six.

She nibbles on her bottom lip, something she’s always done when she’s nervous. After what seems like a thousand years, she releases her lip and looks up at me—her grey eyes warm like a summer storm.

“She’s yours.”


	2. Chapter 2

Oddly enough, anger isn’t the first emotion I feel. I look away from Katniss’s open, wary eyes—she’s waiting for me to freak out—and back to her child. Our child. The little girl’s blues eyes are staring into mine, so kind and innocent and pure. I say the first thing that pops into my head.

“Can I hold her?” 

Katniss visibly relaxes and nods her head. She removes Prim from her hip and gives her to me. The little one immediately snuggles into my side and looks up at me, popping her thumb in her mouth. I can’t help the grin that takes over my face. 

She’s so beautiful, just like her mother. Except her hair. That’s a Mellark trait if I’ve ever seen one: crazy blonde curls that refuse to be tamed. I look away from her delicate, small features and back to Katniss. She’s leaning against her cart, disbelief etched into her face.

“Shit, I always knew you guys looked alike, but seeing you again…and holding her…” She trails off, shaking her head. She looks down at her feet and makes a scuff mark on the floor with her brown leather boots—the ones she’s had for years.

“Why didn’t you tell me about her?” I ask, looking back at Prim. I tuck a blonde curl behind her ear and she giggles again. I trail my fingers along her features, just taking her in; her small straight nose; her wide, open sapphire eyes; her scarlet cheeks; her thin, dirty blonde eyebrows; her small, square chin. I’m in awe. There’s no other way to put it. She’s mine.

“I don’t know,” Katniss finally says as I’m running my thumb along Prim’s rosy lips—the little girl giggling against my skin. “I mean, I had just broken up with you and I was stupid and freaking out and in a new city.”

I look back at her. “And now why are you back here?” Not that I’m mad about that; happiness over this beautiful miracle my arms is all I can feel right now.

“I missed home. And I was offered at job in town.” She sighs deeply, like she’s about to say something she is forced to. “And, of course, there’s you.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Me?”

She points to Prim. “You needed to know about her. Growing up without a father sucks and I…” 

“You don’t want that for her,” I finish. She nods. Katniss’s father died when she was ten. And I hated it. This incredible woman had gone through too much pain in her life, first with her father and then with her sister, and I wanted to remove all of it. But she pushed me away. 

“I’m glad you did but, why did you…” I struggle to find the right words, “—keep her?” Her eyes widen, shocked. Panicking, I qualify my statement, “because I know you never wanted kids. And you especially didn’t want to raise them on your own.”

She relaxes against her cart again, shaking her head, probably no longer contemplating my demise by her own hands. “I just couldn’t do it. I wanted to. I hate to admit that, but I did. I went to the clinic three different times. But I just couldn’t go through with it.” She looks away from me and back to Prim, a soft smile forming on her effortlessly stunning face; she wears not even a spot of make-up. Never has. Katniss has never had to do anything to be completely gorgeous other than wake up. And she doesn’t even have to do that; even sleeping she’s stunning. “And then I thought that maybe she could be my new start; my new family after losing mine.”

“I wanted to be that for you,” I tell her honestly, looking at Prim again. I play with her little toes that peek out from her tiny crisscross sandals. 

“I know you did,” she mumbles back. 

My eyes fly back to her, anger finally making an appearance. “Then why didn’t you let me?!” 

“Peeta, stop!” She uses her stern voice, the one she only uses when she’s trying not to yell. She narrows her eyes at me. “We are not talking about this in the middle of a grocery store.”

“So you get to decide everything?” The malice for her, I’m now discovering, runs deep in my veins. And it’s ready to make its appearance. 

She takes a step closer to me and pushes her finger in my chest. “Enough,” she growls. I want to tell her to go fuck herself, that she’s not in control of me anymore. But Prim’s face snuggles into my neck and I back down immediately. I turn back to her in my arms and see her eyelids begin to droop. Warmth rushes through me like a tidal wave and I look over at Katniss just in time to see her eyes soften.

“Can we go somewhere and talk about this?” I ask, nodding my head down to the sleepy girl in my arms. My little girl.

She clenches her teeth, but nods curtly. 

God, even when she’s pissed she’s the most beautiful person on this planet.

And I hate my weakness for it.

............................................................................................................................................................................................................................

I buy the groceries I’ve already put in my cart and quickly drive home to drop them off, blowing off my other errands. I just found out I had a kid; dry cleaning can fucking wait. I get back into my car and drive to the address Katniss gave me. It’s about a two miles past the bakery, in a suburb at the edge of town. The house that I pull up is a small stone cottage-like home with a cobblestone walkway and a red hybrid in the driveway. 

I practically sprint up the walkway, which is lined with an assortment of flowers and shrubs, each blossom small and bursting with multicolored petals. Before I even knock on the dark green oak door, Katniss opens it and brings her pointer finger in front of her lips.

“Prim’s sleeping,” she whispers as she waves me in. I nod and walk over the threshold. The living room is spacious, with deep red walls and cream carpet. Brown leather furniture is placed chaotically around the room and boxes are stacked precariously around the furniture. And of course, just like you would expect from Katniss, bookshelves everywhere. 

“When did you move?” I ask, walking over to the large couch and sitting down. She sets down a baby monitor on the glass coffee table in front of the couch, and then sits next to me, folding her knees under herself.

“Two days ago,” she mumbles, playing with the end of her braid. “I was going to finish unpacking and then contact you, but then…” she trails off. She does that a lot. Because she knows that I understand her—better than anyone else. I’ve always been able to figure out what she means when she can’t say the words.

“I’ve missed you so much,” I tell her, unable to keep it in any longer. I lean in closer to her and lift my hand to her face to cup her face; I run my thumb along her high cheekbone like I’ve done a million times before. Her olive skin is just as smooth and flawless as I remember.

So fast, she closes the space between us and presses her lips against mine. I’m stiff against her, shocked to say the least, but her lips capture my bottom one and I automatically pull her closer to me; one hand at her back and one hand still on her face. And I kiss her back with everything that I am. Her soft lips meld with mine perfectly and I hold back the moan that threatens to escape from my throat. 

But when she goes to slip her tongue into my mouth, I pull away, shaking my head. I can’t get sucked into this. I need answers. 

“Why did you leave me?” I choke, forgetting the kiss, forgetting the warmth of her body. Tears burn my eyes, ready to fall. 

“Peeta…” she trails off once again and moves her face back to mine, going in for a kiss. But I can’t do this. I pull away and stand up off the couch, officially done with her head games. She’s always done this; distracts me with kisses and sex when there are serious issues we need to discuss. She’s an avoider.

“No. We need to talk about this. You broke my fucking heart, Katniss.” I run my hands through my hair and she looks at me, her silver eyes welling with tears. “And now your back and you’re looking at me like that again, something I’ve been dreaming about for almost three years, and all I want to do is kiss you and make love for hours like we used to. But we can’t—I can’t.” I take a deep breath and continue, “I want to be a part of Prim’s life. She’s my daughter and I want to be her father. I’ll move in if it would be easier or whatever. I’ll do anything. I want her.”

Katniss stares at me, chewing her bottom lip. I’m not sure what part of the speech made her particularly nervous, but here she is—chewing on her bottom lip. After what feels like a hundred years, she rises from the couch and stalks towards me. She wraps her arms around my waist and presses her body to mine, resting her head on my chest. 

“I’ve missed you, too,” she whispers. I encircle my arms around her and set my forehead on the top of her head. We fit together perfectly—like two puzzle pieces. I’ve always known that, always felt that I was missing a part of myself when she was gone. 

She pulls her head away and looks up at me. Her silver eyes slice into my heart, picking at the scab she left when she broke it. “You can stay here a few days a week. There’s a spare room and we can set up an air mattress or something.”

I nod. That sounds reasonable. But of course she didn’t say why she left me; I guess I’ll put it off for now. So I ask a question I know she will answer: “Will you tell me about Prim?”

A grin takes over her face, making her look happier than I’ve ever seen her. “She’s perfect, Peeta,” she says simply. “She’s sweet and quiet and happy all the time. She loves attention and her favorite animal is the elephant. And her favorite color is orange—just like you.” Her eyes twinkle and she licks her lips. God, she’s beautiful. “She hates bananas but loves blueberries, and only drinks milk.”

“Does she still?” I point down to Katniss’s chest. She laughs, covering her mouth to stay quiet, and shakes her head. I let out a small chuckle too, embarrassed.

“God, Peeta, no. She hasn’t done that for over six months. I meant regular milk—like from a cow and a carton.” She rolls her eyes at me. 

“What’s her middle name?” I ask, pulling away from her entirely and sitting back down on the couch. Katniss joins me, nibbling on her lip again. I reach over and pull it out from her teeth. “Don’t do that today. Just tell me what you’re thinking and don’t be nervous about my reaction.”

She nods. “Her middle name is…Lucy.”

My eyes widen. “You remembered?” I ask, surprised. Lucy is the name I told her I wanted to name my daughter, if I ever had one. I think it’s so simple, yet so beautiful.

She nods again. “I remember everything.” 

This time I reach for her and pull her into my arms. I can’t believe she did that. God, I love her. I will always love her. Her hands weave into my hair as she hugs me back, just like she used to. 

“Mama?”

A small voice rings out through the baby monitor and we pull apart. Katniss stands immediately and I scramble up to join her.

“Can I come with you?” I ask, grabbing her arm as she turns to leave. She gives me a small smile, nodding softly, and I follow her as she leaves the living room. She walks down a hall with the same red walls as the living room and opens the door at the end of it. 

We walk in and find Prim sitting up in her crib, chewing on a tiny stuffed animal elephant. I can’t help but grin at her. I’ve only known her for two minutes, but I know I love her. She’s perfect. Just like her mother.

“Primmy, how was your nap?” Katniss picks up the little girl and kisses her cheek before holding her to her side.

“I wan boo-berries!” Prim squeals. Then she looks over at me. Katniss follows her gaze.

“Do you remember Peeta? From the store?” she asks.

Prim nods her head and throws up her arms, almost smacking Katniss on the side of her head. “Pee-da!” she screeches loudly. 

Katniss smiles at her. “Remember to use your inside voice, sweetie,” she says. “But yes, Peeta’s here for dinner.” Prim turns her head away from me and back to her mom.

“Boo-berries?”

I laugh. God, she’s adorable.

“Yes, blueberries and other stuff too.” Katniss takes a few steps towards me. “Here, hang out with Peeta while I get dinner ready.” She hands Prim over to me and I smile at her.

“Hey, I have work in about two hours,” I tell her, remembering. I kind forgot with the whole discovering I have a child I didn’t know about thing. 

She nods. “Okay, I’ll make something quick. And if you want, you could stop by after you are done.” She twirls her braid around her finger. “We still have some stuff to talk about.”

I nod. “Absolutely. I’d love to.” 

She kisses Prim on the cheek and exits the room, leaving the two of us alone. I look down at Prim and find her smiling at me; I smile back.

“Pee-da!” she calls again. 

“Primmy!” I call back. She giggles. 

I look around the room and spot some toys in the corner. “Do you want to play?” I ask, but she shakes her head and points to a bookshelf in the shape of a cupcake in the opposite corner. 

“So-ry!”

I walk over to the bookshelf and crouch down to look at the selection. After a few seconds, I find one of my favorites as a kid and pull it out. I move to the rocking chair with a flowered quilt draped over the back that is positioned next to the books and sit down. I shift Prim so she’s sitting on my lap and able to see the pictures.

“My favoride!” she squeals and leans her head back against my chest. I can’t help the tears that prick in the corner of my eyes and the grin that takes over my face. It’s her favorite too. 

And slowly, I begin to read to my daughter for the first time.


	3. Chapter 3

“I have a daughter!” 

I’m shouting into the phone, which I know pisses Gale off, but I can’t help it. I couldn’t wait until I saw him again in person before I told him. I dialed his number as soon as I hopped into the car after work, heading back to Katniss’s house.

Gale curses. “Shit, man, I’m so sorry. Please don’t tell me it was that one chick Delly you fucked last year. Jesus, she was a nightmare. So clingy and annoying.”

I roll my eyes, though I know he can’t see me. “No, it’s not Delly. It’s Katniss!”

“Who-niss?” 

“Katniss, man! Katniss fucking Everdeen!” I scream, slamming my fist onto the steering wheel, a grin on my face. 

I have a daughter! And she’s amazing. So damn smart. I’m pretty sure reading and eating dinner with her was the highlight of my life. She’s seriously the perfect combination of Katniss and me; she possesses the best of both of our personalities. 

“Wait, what?!” He yells so loud I have to take the phone away from my ear.

“Katniss? The love of my life? Does that ring a bell? She’s back in town, for good it seems like, I ran into her at the grocery store this morning. And she has a daughter! My daughter! Fuck, she looks exactly like me. And her. Both of us!” Happiness runs through my veins. I’m on cloud nine right now. Even my employees noticed. Johanna—who’s actually older than me—interrogated me like a little kid; but I didn’t say anything. I wanted to tell Gale first. 

“She has a kid? And she kept it from you? What a bitch.”

“Huh?” Gale is kind of killing my buzz. 

“Peeta, she kept a child from you, for over two years. Some might even say the most important years in a child’s life. And you missed them. How are you not pissed right now?” Gale’s voice is incredulous and full of anger. 

“I, uh—”

“Let me guess, you didn’t think about it like that? You were just excited to see her again and find out you have a child. Shit, Peeta, you’ve always wanted a family of your own.” I can practically see him running a hand through his hair, like he always does when he’s exasperated. 

“Kinda.”

Gale lets out an angry breath. “Look, I’m not telling you how to feel, but man, don’t you wish you could have seen the birth? Or hear her first word?”

I’m silent as I pull in front of Katniss’s house and turn off the engine. He’s right. I missed out on some vastly important events in Prim’s life because Katniss kept her a secret. She kept my child from me. My lightness suddenly seems absurd. 

I scratch my head, these newfound thoughts marinating deep in the base of my skull. “Gale, I’ve gotta go. I’m staying with Katniss tonight, I think. We have some stuff to talk about.” 

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

I hang up and slip my phone back into my pocket. Fuck, he was right. I whip open my door and run up the walkway. Again, Katniss opens the door before I can knock.

“Is there somewhere we can talk without fear of waking her up?” I whisper, foregoing the formal hellos. 

“Uh, yeah. My bedroom is pretty soundproof. We should be okay.” 

I nod and she takes me down the same hallway, but this time we enter the room at the beginning of the hallway instead of the end. Katniss’s room is large, with blue painted walls and a large, tall bed with a light blue comforter on it. Nothing else seems to be unpacked, still in the boxes in the corner of the room. She sits down on her bed and pats the spot next to her, but I shake my head and begin to pace back and forth. 

“I need answers,” I tell her simply.

She takes a deep breath and exhales loudly, her shoulders rising and falling dramatically. “Okay. Ask away.”

And then I just lose it. 

“How could keep her from me? For two fucking years!” I scream.

She sighs, seemingly unfazed, and runs a hand through her loose hair. I love it when it’s loose. “Peeta, I don’t have a good excuse.”

I shake thoughts of combing my fingers through her silky hair out of my head and get angry again. “You realize how selfish that is, right? I missed everything for two years! Her birth, her first steps, her first diaper change, her first smile, her first everything!” 

“Peeta, I—”

“No.” I turn to her and stop my pacing. “How could you do that to me? I know you broke up with me, but I never thought you hated me.”

Her eyes widen. “I don’t hate you—I’ve never hated you! I found out I was pregnant not even a month after I had settled in Los Angeles. And I couldn’t just quit and tell you and move back to you. Or have you uproot your life. You’d just inherited your bakery and I wasn’t going to take you away from that—it was your dream. And my job in L.A. was my dream.”

“Well, what changed? It’s been two and a half years. Why are you back now?”

“I told you, I missed home. And I want Prim to have a father,” she whispers, biting on her lower lip. She’s obviously hiding something; but I ignore that for right now and continue my interrogation.

“What about your dream job?” 

She shakes her head. “It wasn’t as dreamy as I thought—being a music executive. I made good money but that was the only benefit.”

I take a shaky breath and ask the question I’ve been dying to ask since the second I saw her. “What about us? Did you think about us at all?”

She glares at me again. I’m getting really fucking sick of that glare. How can she be upset with me about anything? “Peeta, I had your fucking daughter!” she screams, startling me. “I think about you every time I look at her. I think about how terribly I treated you and how badly I wish you knew about her. How I miss your touch and your smile and your love. And how I never deserved you!”

I look at her, utterly shocked. She’s never said anything like this before. Katniss never once in our entire relationship said anything similar. But if she really felt all that, why didn’t she say it? Better yet, is that why she left?

“Dammit, Katniss, I loved you. More than anything in this world. I wanted to spend the rest of my life, every minute of it, with you in my arms. And you just left me. One minute we were having sex and the next you told me you were moving to LA.” My hands clench my t-shirt, willing the anger to dissipate even a little bit. 

“I wasn’t ready for all that, Peeta. I wasn’t ready for marriage and kids—”

“But you had a kid! My kid!” I shout, exploding. She’s gonna throw that in my face after what she has raised, just down the hall from us. “You’re a fucking hypocrite.”

Her silver, all telling eyes flash with sorrow. But I can’t bow down to them like I have so many times in the past. She fucked up. I’m not gonna feel sorry for her. 

But the sorrow fades as quickly as it appeared. She glowers at me instead. “I didn’t plan on that.” She stands up off the bed, her body vibrating in anger, her hands pulling at her roots. “I wanted to forget about you and try to move on. But I can’t. You’re under my skin and you won’t get out!” she screams, voice cracking. 

I laugh, incredulous. Un-fucking-believable. She’s gonna use that shit on me? “Katniss, I’ve loved you since I was six years old. Do you think I’ve ever wanted to be with anyone else? I’ve tried, but no one fucking compares to you!” 

Suddenly, she rips her shirt off over her head and throws it on the ground. “I need you, Peeta. Fuck me. Right here. Right now.” She unclasps her bra and tears in down her arms, letting in fall to the ground next to her shirt.

I stare at her in shock. Is she fucking crazy? Does she really think that having sex is gonna solve anything? That’s it’s going to make up for making me so miserable for the last two and a half years and keeping my own flesh and blood from me?

But I can’t help it. My body betrays me; my mind fades into nothing, no anger, no malice. Just lust. Before I can even fully realize what I’m doing, my hands grabbing her thick waves and my lips are crashing into hers. 

And she kisses me back. Oh, sweet fucking Lord, does she kiss me back. Her tongue dives into my mouth, sliding against mine as we create a furious battle for dominance. But I’m gonna win. She’s left me waiting for too fucking long and it’s finally time for me to get what I want. 

I bite her lip—hard—yearning a groan and gasp from her, before I pull away. Her eyes exploding with desire, I pick her up and toss her on the bed. I crawl on top of her before she’s completely settled on her back and attack her neck, nibbling and sucking and kissing at the sensitive skin. She loves this, loves my mouth here, making her whimper and moan; and fuck, so do I. 

Katniss pulls at my shirt and I lean back so she can tear it off and throw it behind me. She runs her fingernails down my bare chest and I thrust into her, my body reacting to her touch after so long. She gasps at the friction and pinches my nibbles, causing me to thrust again. God, she gets me so fucking hard. She smirks knowingly, remarkably still aware of the effect she has on me, has always had on me. Then she deftly begins to unzip my jeans. I move my hands to her perfect, perky breasts, my thumbs gravitating towards around her hard, dusky nipples. Her chest is a little bit larger than I remember, obviously from having our kid, and I pinch her nipples back, hard and long.

“Oh, Peeta, God,” she gasps into the air. I fall back onto her, claiming her mouth again. So fucking sweet, like strawberries and honey, and so fucking wet; the image of it wrapped around my cock instantly springs into my mind. But that will have to wait. I need her pussy. Now. 

I jump off the bed for only a moment to rip my pants and boxers of the rest of the way off my legs, finishing what Katniss started. When I’m done, I strip Katniss out of her grey sweats and the white cotton underwear she’s always worn and throw them off the bed too. Her silver eyes are hungry and she licks her lips as I crawl between her thighs. I leap back on the bed and kiss her, rough and frenzied, her fingers diving into my hair, nails scratching down my scalp. 

I pull away from her lips and begin to kiss down her perfect, tan body. Down past her collarbone, I stop at her breasts, popping her left nipple in my mouth and sucking on it hard. Her back arches as I bite the tip with my teeth.

“Oh, fuck!” she moans, running her hands through my hair again. I chuckle against her breast, relishing in what I’m still able to do to her. She’s not the only one who can have an effect.

But quickly, unable to hold back any longer, I slink down to where I’ve always loved to go. 

I kiss the inside of her thigh, sucking on the skin, and she writhes beneath me. She’s always hated the teasing, but it’s my favorite part. I love to toy with her until she’s begging me to take her. I lick up and down her thighs while she tosses around, gasping. And then, without warning, I put my mouth where she wants it. My tongue thrusts into her slick folds and she arches again, pushing my face closer to her, moaning loudly. And I can’t help but moan to. Fuck, I’ve missed her taste, the sweet tang exploding my taste buds, assaulting my senses. I massage her silky walls with my tongue, pulling the sweetness into my mouth, discovering every ripple and crevice of her warm heat all over again. She quivers around my tongue, so close already. She’s desperate for it, desperate for me. So I won’t keep her waiting. I suction my mouth around her clit and suck it hard as I plunge my two my fingers deep into her. 

“Oh, fuck, Peeta. That feels so good. I’ve missed this so much.” She holds my face between her thighs and I pump my fingers furiously into her, curling them upwards so they hit her sweet spot. I can feel her building around my fingers, squeezing me tighter and tighter, rippling and gripping. Then, right when she’s at the edge, I nip her clit with my teeth. 

She comes, squeezing around my fingers like a fist, shouting my name into the night. 

I lap up her wetness, her trembling slowly fading against my tongue. When I finally look up to her again, she looks down at me with hooded lids, a sated smile on her face. I crawl back up her body, sucking her nipples again momentarily; and when I reach her face, I kiss her—thrusting my tongue in her perfect, wet mouth. She kisses me back like a starving man; I know she can taste herself and it turns me on even more.

I pull away and tuck a stray hair behind her ear, grinning so wide my cheeks ache. She looks so beautiful right now, her cheeks red, her bangs stuck to her forehead with sweat. And I need to be with her again. I move to get a condom from my wallet but she grabs my shoulders, shaking her head.

“No. Don’t use anything—I’m still on the pill. I just want to feel your come inside me,” she moans, licking her lips. I twitch against her thigh. Fuck me. I’m about to come and I haven’t even slipped inside her yet.

“I don’t know, Katniss. Isn’t that how we got our daughter?” I ask, humor in my tone, but I’m also worried. She narrows her eyes at me and slides her hand down my chest until she grabs my cock in her hand. She runs her palm over the head and then squeezes me tightly; I let out a loud moan. Then she rubs the head up and down her soft, slick folds. 

“Either you take me without a condom or you don’t take me at all,” she tells me, using her stern voice. 

“Fuck, you’re sexy,” I gasp. She halts her ministrations and brings her hand back to cup my face. She slips her tongue out of her mouth and runs the tip of it along my upper lip. I groan. I always loved it when she did that and she knows it. “Fine. You asked for it.”

I lean back on my heels, and pull her closer to me, opening her up so I can watch myself pump into her. And then slowly, I push my cock into her until I’m completely buried inside. I moan her name into the air, already holding myself back from finishing too soon. It’s even better than I remember; it’s fucking nirvana. 

Slowly, withdraw and push myself into her, then pause again. 

“Peeta, faster,” she growls, her face flushed. 

“No. I want it slow. I’ve waited for this for almost three years, Katniss.” I pull out of her again and start the slowest rhythm known to man. She moans and wiggles under me, trying to get me to pump faster, but I won’t do it. I want to cherish this. 

I let my hands roam across her body, trying to imprint every single moment of this in my mind. She looks at me, her grey eyes open and hungry. The skin from the top of her breasts all the way to her forehead a beautiful flushed red shade. She’s so fucking perfect. 

I dreamed about being with her again so many times these past years, but never did I imagine it would feel like this. Not the amazing part—that was a guarantee—but the connection. It feels like there was never a gap, never a break in our love or intimacy. It’s as if I’m transported back in time, back when we were happy and young and Katniss used to maul me with kisses in random places, with the excuse that she loved me so much that it couldn’t be contained. When she would plop down on the couch next to me, tell me she wanted to get fucked, and we would do exactly that. When she should spend the whole day teasing me with glares and lip licks and panty flashes until I couldn’t hold back any longer and threw her down on the coffee table. I feel like a twenty-one year old kid who finally got the girl, after so long of loving her from afar. 

I fall back down on her, craving the feeling on her skin against mine. She immediately wraps her arms around my back, tucking her head into my shoulder. The shift in position makes her clench around me, brings me closer to the edge, but I grit my teeth and power through. I love her. I’ve always loved her. And right now, in this moment, I finally get to feel that love again. I don’t know when she’ll change her mind and leave me alone and broken again. But as long as we are connected, she can’t. I can pretend that she loves me back.

But all amazing things have to come to an end. I try to hold back, but soon I feel her start to quiver underneath me. I move my hand between us and begin to rub her nub furiously, egging her on. She screams my name and suddenly climaxes, her muscles rippling around me. And I can’t hold back. I’ve wanted this for too long and she takes me with her. I twitch inside her, filling her as we finish together with slow strokes, rubbing out our orgasms together.

I collapse on top of her, being careful not crush her, and bury my face in her neck. Every other girl I’ve been with can’t compare to this. To her. We’re perfect. Making love to her is the one thing in this world that makes sense. Being with her in general is. 

She runs her hands up and down my back and we pant together, our sweaty bodies pressed together. “You’re still the only person I’ve been with, Peeta,” she whispers into my ear after a while. “And I know I’m not that person for you anymore, but I just wanted you to know.” 

I pull away from her neck and see her nibbling on her lip. My heart clenching in my chest, I tell her honestly, “You’re the only one that has ever mattered, Katniss. You’re the only one who’s made me feel alive. The only one I’ve loved.” Her grey eyes fill with insecurity; I lean down and kiss her soft lips again, sighing into her mouth. 

Soft crying breaks the silence of the room and I pull away from Katniss, turning my head to find the source. The baby monitor, of course, placed on her nightstand next to a beat up copy of Persuasion. 

I instantly slip myself out of Katniss, my release falling on the sheets in a sticky waterfall, and jump out of bed. I grab my discarded boxers from the floor and pull them back on, excitement filling my veins.

“Can I get her?” I ask, a little eager. She opens her mouth and I cut her off before she can say a word, “I know I’ve never done it before, but if she won’t stop crying or whatever, I’ll come and get you. I just want to try.”

Face softening, she nods her head. I lean over the bed, press another kiss to her mouth and run out of the room and down the hall before she can change her mind. 

I find Prim sitting up in her crib, wailing, and I run to her. I gently pick her up and cradle her as best as I can. I know she’s not a baby, but she fits in my long arms, and I like the feeling of her soft curls against my skin.

“Shhh, it’s okay Prim. You’ll be okay,” I coo, trying to get her to calm down. She looks up at me, tears streaming down her face, and instantly begins to relax, her cries quieting. I hum a soft song, probably off key, but it seems to soothe her anyway.

After a bit, her cries have stopped entirely, and her eyelids have begun to droop again. I lean down and kiss her forehead. She’s so damn perfect it makes me want to squeal with delight. My little girl. Mine. 

When I’m sure she’s asleep, I gently place her back in her crib. I wait a few more minutes, staring down at her sleeping form before I creep out of the room and back to Katniss. She’s wearing my shirt and tucked under the covers, no longer on top of them like she was when we made love. 

“Impressive,” she says, as I slip into bed next to her. “Prim normally takes about twenty minutes to calm down in the middle of the night.”

I shrug my shoulders in nonchalance, but I feel anything but. That moment was…incredible. “She’s amazing. You did a great job raising her,” I say instead. 

Her eyes glistening, she leans forward and gives me a small kiss. I fall back on the pillows and pull her to my side, yawning loudly. She places her hand on my chest and yawns too. 

It doesn’t take long before Katniss drifts off to sleep, her soft snores filling the small room. But I’m wide awake, my chest tight.

As much as I loved being with her again, she hurt me so much when she left me and I’m not sure if I can forgive her yet for that. Or for Prim. And we still need to talk about everything. Us. Prim. The past. The future. 

What the fuck did I just do?


	4. Chapter 4

My ringtone wakes me up the next morning. I climb out of bed, delicately peeling Katniss off of my chest, and retrieve my phone from the front pocket of my discarded jeans.

“Hello?” I whisper, stepping out of Katniss’s room and into the hallway—not wanting to wake her up.

“Peeta? Dude, what happened last night? I want all the details.” Gale’s voice floods my ears.

“We kind of…” I trail off.

“You fucked, didn’t you?” 

“Yeah. And it was amazing, just like I remembered—maybe even better.” I pause, remembering how it felt to have her wrapped around me again; but dread fills my stomach as well. It wasn’t right. “But it was a huge mistake,” I finish.

“Uh, ya think?” His tone reeks of annoyance. 

I frown. “It was just too soon—there’s still a lot shit we need to address. I don’t know when I’m going to be able to forgive her for keeping Prim from me.”

Gale huffs out a breath. “Well, good luck with all that. I’ll see you the next time you come home—whenever that will be. Call me if you need anything, man.”

“Thanks.” 

I hang up and sneak back into Katniss’s room. She’s still asleep, her arms wrapped around herself in my absence; I slip back under the covers with her. I spoon her back, wrapping my arm around her small waist, over her own. 

I watch her sleeping form, just like I’ve done so many times before. Her soft olive skin, her thin red lips, her long eyelashes that cast shadows on her skin, her high cheekbones. She looks so content when she sleeps; she’s not sad or angry, the two things she is most of the time.

After about ten minutes, she begins to rustle, slowly waking up; she turns in my arms and looks up to my face. She smiles shyly and leans forward, planting a firm kiss on my lips.

“Morning,” she whispers, morning breath and all. 

“Good morning,” I whisper back.

“Have you heard Prim yet?” she asks as she drags her fingers around my bare chest and down my stomach, following the trail of light blonde hairs. I exhale slowly and close my eyes for a second, relishing. God, I love her touch. It feels like home.

“No. She’s been quiet,” I respond, opening my eyes again, tightness forming pit of my stomach. I tap my fingers along her side, lost in the thought, my eyes fixed on the freckle that resides on her pinky finger. I’ve always loved that freckle.

Her voice breaks me out of my reverie. “Penny for your thoughts?” 

I look back into her eyes and tuck a curl of her brown hair behind her ear, exhaling once again. “Do you remember our first time?”

A small smile forms on her face and she nods her head. “You were so nervous and excited, but you wanted to make it last for me. You were quivering and kissing me frantically, hoping that I was enjoying it.” She lifts her hand from my chest and cups my face. “You were so cute.”

I roll my eyes. “That’s not how I remember it.”

She raises her eyebrows at me—she always does that. “Really? How do you remember it?”

“You were lying underneath me and you looked so beautiful. Your skin was flushed and you were trying so hard to mask your discomfort by biting your lip. Your eyes were wide and staring into mine. And you kept whispering ‘I love you’ over and over.” I drag my thumb across her bottom lip, the memory overwhelming me. 

Her eyes soften. “Okay, that might have happened, too.”

I smile at her, but it dies in the middle. My heart aches in my chest, throbbing because of what I have to say next. I clear my throat, not ready to say this, not really wanting to. But it needs to be said. 

“I think we rushed it, Katniss. Last night,” I take another deep breath, “shouldn’t have happened.”

She’s quiet for a long time, breathing deeply, breathing with me. So I continue, “It was incredible, don’t get me wrong. God, Katniss, I’ve thought about you and what it would be like to be with you again every day since you left me. But I’m so mad at you. For not telling me. For leaving me. For what you made me lose.” I take another deep breathe, trying not to yell, willing away the anger from erupting. “Right now, there are so many unresolved issues. We need to talk about every single one of them. But most of all, we need to help Prim. She’s my daughter and I will do anything to be a part of her life now that I know she exists.”

Katniss nods her head, though it seems to pain her. “Okay.”

I exhale, relief flooding my veins. Then she bites her bottom lip.

I pull it away from her teeth again. “What are you thinking?” I scan her silver eyes, but can’t find anything but worry.

“I just…while you’re here, can you…sleep with me?”

“Katniss, I don’t think that’s—”

“No. I mean sleep. Just sleep. Like we used you.”

I unfurrow my eyebrows and pull her closer to me, cupping her face with my left hand, finally understanding. “They’re back,” I say simply. 

She nods. “Every night. Except last night.” She locks eyes with me. “You always took them away.”

Katniss has nightmares. Terrible, screaming, painful nightmares about her past; and they scare the shit out her—and me. My heart pounding in my chest, I lean forward to kiss her again. She can’t say stuff like that and not have me kiss her. It’s short and sweet, but the electricity still runs through my entire body like used to. Fuck me. This is going to be difficult. 

“Of course I will,” I whisper when I pull away. “Fuck the air mattress.” 

She grins at me, a chuckle escaping her throat. “Do you want to wake up Prim?”

A rush of happiness rips through me and I bound out of bed, grabbing my discarded jeans from the night before and pulling them on as fast as I can. Katniss watches me from the bed, a large smile on her face.

“Are you coming?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “No, you can do it. I’ll start breakfast.” She slides out of the tall bed, still wearing my shirt. Only my shirt. It cuts off on her legs right before you see all the important stuff and I can’t help the groan that escapes from my mouth. She puts her hands on her hips, causing my shirt to rise up a little bit higher. Shit. My knees practically buckle and I tilt my head, staring at the exposed skin.

“Peeta!” I tear my gaze away from the junction of her highs. “You made the decision to not have sex, not me.” She walks towards me and places her hands on my bare chest. “So stop ogling and go get your daughter.”

I can’t help but smile at that. My daughter. 

After Katniss puts on some pants, we part ways, her off to the kitchen and me off to Prim’s room. I open the door and tip-toe over to her crib. She’s wrapped up in a yellow blanket with elephants and other zoo animals on it, her bare toes peeking out at the end of it. I unlock the gate, slide it down, and discard her blanket before picking up Prim’s sleep form. She twitches, waking up, and I hold her against my still bare chest, cradling the back of her head as I look down at her face. 

“Prim, it’s time to wake up. Mama’s making breakfast.”

She blinks her eyes open and I see the eyes identical to mine. She yawns loudly. “Whas mama making?” she asks, her high voice laced with sleep.

“I don’t know what Mama’s making. Maybe blueberries?”

Her eyes widen. “Boo-berries!”

I grin and poke her small nose; she giggles. I shift her to my hip and leave her room, closing the door behind me. 

“You like boo-berries, Pee-da?” she asks as I carry her down the hall.

“Yes. I love blueberries. And strawberries. And pancakes.”

“I love pancakes! With peana bubber!” 

“Me too!”

She giggles. “Mama not like them with peana bubber.”

“She’s silly,” I say, tickling her sides. She squeals and thrashes around in my arms. 

When we reach the kitchen, I set her down in the plastic high chair in the corner, rubbing her curls with my left hand. “Do you want something to drink, Prim?”

“Milk!”

“What do you say, Prim?” Katniss pipes in, looking over to us while she whisks something in a large pink bowl.

“Pweease, Pee-da!” 

I grin. “Absolutely.” I walk over to Katniss and discover she’s whisking eggs. She sets down the bowl and the whisk momentarily and hands me a sippy cup, already filled with milk. 

I lean down and whisper in her ear. “Wow, you’re teaching her to be polite. Unlike you.” 

She glares at me while I grin down at her. “Shut up.”

I raise my eyebrows at her. “I think you just proved my point.”

I take the sippy cup and bring it back to Prim. She smiles at me, mumbling a “hank you” and takes the cup from my hand and begins to suck on it greedily. I guess Katniss was right when she said Prim loves milk. I sit down on a chair next to her and watch her, transfixed by her beautiful face. She’s so unbelievably pure and innocent, with her bouncing curls and her bright blue eyes. I can’t wait to get to know her. I want to know every single thing about her to favorite season to the brand of her diapers.

“She’s so beautiful—like you, Katniss,” I call to her behind me. 

“I was gonna say she’s so beautiful—just like you.” I turn away from Prim and back to her, my eyebrows raised and my heart pounding in my chest. Her grey eyes are soft and lock with mine instantly. “She looks exactly like you, Peeta. And I like it.” 

“Pee-da!” Prim calls, pulling me away from Katniss’s eyes. “I look like Pee-da!”

I grin at her. “You think so?”

She nods her head. “Mama say I look like bes friend Pee-da. You!” She points at me and I lean forward and kiss the top of her head; her hair smells like the same strawberry shampoo Katniss uses. “You smell like Mama!” she chirps into my neck.

My eyes widen and I look over at Katniss. She shrugs her shoulders.

“She has no filter,” is all she says.

..................................................................................................................................................................................................................

After a breakfast of eggs and pancakes, and of course blueberries, Katniss and I watch Prim play with her toys on the floor in the living room while we sit on the couch.

“So what is the job you got here?” I ask, watching Prim as she tries to build a tower of blue blocks.

“Cesar, you know, who owns the recording studio downtown?” she asks. I nod my head. “Well, he was looking for a buyer—super cheap—and so I bought it. I’ll be able to find artists of my own and record records with them.”

I look over to her. “Katniss that’s amazing. It sounds perfect for you.”

She grins. “I know; I’m stoked.” She moves closer to me on the couch and lifts her right hand and cups my face. “I’m so happy that you want to be a part of Prim’s life. I was nervous you would still be mad at me and you would dismiss her.”

I shake my head, shrugging off her hand—though I want to do anything but. “Don’t get me wrong, Katniss; I’m fucking livid with you. No matter how much I want to kiss you or be with you sometimes—I’m pissed. You hurt me; in more ways than one. But, how could I not be a part of her life? I’ve known her for about two seconds and I already know I love her. I am both absolutely angry and unbelievably happy that Prim is here with me now. I wish you would have told me as soon as you found out you were pregnant, but I guess I have to be glad that you told me eventually.” I look away from Katniss and back to Prim. “She’s amazing, Katniss. She’s perfect in every single way.”

“I think so, too,” Katniss says, her tone sad but understanding. 

And she should understand. Katniss knew how much I had wanted a family with her, and five years later she tells me that she started our family without me. She must know how much that hurts. Well, she doesn’t know. That’s the point. She doesn’t know what it feels like to have something like this held from you. But she has to understand why I can’t be so quick to forgive. She must understand that I love her, but right now my angry and fear and sadness and a million different other emotions that I can’t even put a name to, are covering up that love. 

“Actually, I have to get to work pretty soon,” she says, glancing at her watch. “There’s a lot of shit to be done still to get the place to where I want it, both visually and content wise.”

I nod my head. “So what are you gonna do with Prim?”

“I was just planning on taking her with me. I’ve already set up a little area for her to hang out while I’m working. I just don’t really want to give her over to a babysitter. I had to do that in L.A. and I hated in. It’s another bonus to moving back her and owning my own place. My own rules.”

I roll my eyes. Katniss has always had her rules concerning almost everything. She’s completely stubborn in that way. 

“Um, but, if you don’t have anywhere to be, would you like to join us?” She glances at me, obviously nervously. “You could hang out with Prim while I yell at contractors and then we could order some take-out for lunch?”

I grin at her, and watch as her nervousness fades. “I would love that. I told everyone last night that I wasn’t going to come into the bakery today. I was hoping to spend time with Prim.”

She nods. “And so you shall.”


	5. Chapter 5

I’m pretty sure this has been the best day of my life. 

When I was younger, I thought it was the first time I saw Katniss, on the second day of kindergarten. She was swinging on the swings at recess by herself, her eyes closed. I thought it was so brave to close your eyes on the swings, and I fell for that braveness. I didn’t know it was love back then, of course. I was only six. All I knew was that I needed to get to know her.

When I was a teenager, I thought it was the day we finally had a conversation. Katniss was waiting in the office after her name was called over the PA system. She was worried, biting on her bottom lip and picking at her thumb nail. I was waiting for an appointment with my counselor, hoping to switch out of woodshop and into culinary arts. We started talking, first about her fear that she was reported for kneeing Cato Macintosh in balls after he tried to grope her in study hall, and then about the ridiculousness of study hall in the first place. She smiled at me after I made a dumb joke, and I thought my heart was going to explode.

Those two days were overpowered by our first kiss—on a rickety wooden porch at a party neither of us wanted to attend; our first “I love you”—spoken in reverence, whispered into each other’s ears as we waited to be seated at this quaint burger joint on the edge of town; our first time together—in her dorm on a Tuesday autumn night, after her music theory class.

But today has trounced all of those memories. Because today. Today I spent with my daughter—the daughter I had with the girl I thought put color in my world. _My daughter._ Those two words like music to my ears. 

To everyone else in the world, it must look like boring as hell. Prim and I spent the day together while Katniss talked on the phone and downloaded different fancy mixing programs onto her laptop; we read stories while Katniss yelled on the phone and painted one wall of her studio bright red; we played with toys while Katniss laughed on the phone and tested out frequencies on her soundboard. Basically we had fun while Katniss was on the phone.

But it was wonderful. Katniss checked in on us every twenty-five minutes like clockwork, and we were always two yards away. All she had to do was look through the glass that surrounded the recording booth on three sides and see us playing in the corner, watching her work. 

I rise from the rocking chair next to the crib where Prim fell asleep almost twenty minutes ago and walk towards Katniss, who now leans against the sound booth. She’s been watching me since I started to put Prim to bed, her eyes wide with curiosity and concern. When I reach her, she tugs on my sleeve and jerks her head in the direction of the far corner, commanding me to follow her.

We walk towards big leather couches and a sleek black coffee table covered in sheet music. She makes a break for the fridge that’s to the left of this seating area, but not before pointing at the couch. I sit down and let my muscles relax. I spent so much time on my knees, crouched down, playing with Prim, and my back is starting to feel it. Katniss returns with two bottles of beer—probably an IPA of some kind. That’s always been her favorite. 

She sets the bottles on the coffee table and collapses next to me. Her hair flies over the back of the couch like a chocolate explosion. She left it loose today, I’m not sure why. She pushed it behind her ears throughout the day, each time with an exasperated breath. But I can’t say I’m angry about it. I love the effortless, natural waves that fall down her back. They felt so soft last night between my fingers, as silky as water. Fuck. I told myself not to think about last night. It will only make things harder—in more ways than one.

I move my hands away from Katniss, careful not to touch her. I wish I didn’t have to be, but right now it’s for the best.

“Today was pretty fantastic,” I tell her, running a hand through my hair. “Your job seems pretty cool.”

She nods her head. “I’m really excited to get some artists in here. That’s one of the reasons I was on the phone so much—artists from L.A. that I want to come over and record with me.” 

“Wow, that’s incredible.” 

She nods again. “It will be. There is some contract shit to deal with, but hopefully it will all work out.” She smiles. “You looked pretty happy with Prim today. And she looked pretty happy, too.”

I look down at my hands as blood rushes to my cheeks. “I hope so. I want to…” 

“What?”

I find her eyes again. “Make up for lost time.”

She grabs her bottle off the coffee table and downs half of it. She sighs. “Everything always leads back to this, doesn’t it?”

“Yes. It does.” 

I don’t try to deny it. I don’t try to deny that every time Prim smiled at me it reminded me of all the smiles I missed. That every time Prim waddled to grab a different toy, it reminded me that I missed her first steps. That every time Prim said my name, I wondered what her first word was. 

I take her lead and drink my beer too. I was right—it is an IPA. A little too hoppy for my taste, but I let the liquid slide down my throat and hope it dulls the pain. Which pain I’m not sure. There are so many to choose from.

I look over to Katniss. She’s picking at the label on her bottle. That’s a nervous tick for some people, but it never was one of hers. My heart contracts in my chest. It makes me so sad that she developed a nervous tick and I wasn’t even there to witness it. How fucked up is that?

“Will you ever trust me again, Peeta?” Katniss meets my gaze. “I mean, while neither of us is beating around the bush.” I can hear the pain in her tone, even with the anger overpowering it. 

“I really want to.” I finish the rest of my beer and try my damnedest not to slam the bottle down on the table. “Shit, Katniss. Do you know how much it hurts me to look at you, the girl I care about, no—fuck it—the girl I _still_ love, and not trust her. To be so close to you, but feel like we’re still a country apart. It fucking hurts.” 

“It hurts me, too, Peeta. Don’t think that you’re the only one here that hates the situation we are in.”

“You fucking put us in this situation!” I yell—and I immediately regret it. Because before I can even take breath, Prim’s soft cry erupts from her crib in the opposite corner. 

I stand up with Katniss, but she waves me off, not meeting my eyes. “I’ll take care of this. Why don’t I just meet you in the sound booth, if you want to continue yelling?” She leaves without waiting for me to respond. 

Hating myself, I do what she says. I sit in one of the two leather swivel chairs in front of the soundboard, and watch through the glass as Katniss rocks Prim back and forth, her mouth moving, forming words I can’t hear. I don’t like that she has all the control. I don’t like that I’m in isolation and there are zero consequences for what Katniss did. I don’t like that it feels that at any moment, she could leave again and take my daughter with her. I don’t like this situation. It’s as simple as that.

Katniss walks in and sets a baby monitor on the edge of the soundboard; the door drifts shut behind her. She pushes her hair away from her face, sighing deeply. Even in the dim light of this booth, her features leave me breathless.

“When I was pregnant,” she starts, walking towards me, “I had really bad morning sickness. So I used to pretend that I was reliving Gale’s 21st.” I smile pulls at my lips, even though I don’t want it to. “The three of us got so shitfaced that night, and spent the next morning together in the bathroom, taking turns throwing up. I thought about how, even though you drank more than us, you held my hair back and rubbed my shoulders and told me that this was going to pass. That I would feel better in an hour, and we would spend the rest of the day eating ice cream and making out.” She smiles. “Of course, that didn’t actually happen. When we finally had the strength to leave the bathroom, it was only to crawl to the living room to watch sitcoms and wish we were dead. But I remembered how you took care of me, and I pretended that you were there next to me, rubbing my back and whispering me in my ear.”

“I would have done that if I was actually there,” I say, trying not to sound too angry.

“I know. That’s my point, Peeta.” She sighs again, and tucks her hair behind her ears. “I loved that you took care of me. That you cared about me more than you did yourself. That’s why it hurts me so much that we are in the situation we are in. Because I loved you more than I loved myself, but not even that love could keep me from being selfish.” She falls down into the chair, drained. She pulls at the front of her shirt, looking anywhere but my eyes. “I can’t fully explain why I left, or why I didn’t tell you about Prim. I don’t even know all the reasons myself. But I do know that I was scared and self-centered and I hurt both of us—maybe even irreparably. But I’m back here now, and I don’t want to keep having the same fight over and over again. I want to make up for lost time.”

I run my hands through my hair, utterly exhausted. Every moment with her feels like a fight. It feels like I’ve been fighting for two weeks instead of two days. “I don’t know, Katniss. I don’t know what to think or what to feel or what to trust. What is a relationship without trust and forgiveness—any kind of relationship? A shitty one probably.” 

“I want to start over. A clean slate,” she says simply.

“Katniss, I don’t know—”

“I know that I did a lot of things,” she cuts me off, her gaze finding mine. “And that I hurt you.” I look away from her, tears welling in my eyes. “But I promise, Peeta. I am never going to do it again.”

“Never leave?” My voice breaks and I hate myself for it.

She takes my face in her hands, forcing me to look at her. I want to tell my body to move away, but I don’t. “Never hurt you. I know that sounds unrealistic, and I will unintentionally break this promise, but I am not going do it on purpose. I won’t knowingly hurt you again.”

She presses her lips to my forehead, and I can’t help it. I break. I cry. I cry fucking _hard._

Katniss pulls my head into her chest, and I clutch helplessly at the back of her t-shirt. The last time I cried was after Katniss left me. After that moment of wakeness when you remember your life, I would burst into tears and not stop until it was time to fall asleep and do it all over again. After a week of doing that, I pulled myself together enough to stop crying, but I still lived in a hole of darkness for a long time. I think I still do.

I cry now for the time I lost with Prim. The days where I missed Katniss so much it felt like my heart was removed from my chest and replaced with asphalt. I cry for the pain that Katniss selfishly inflicted on me, because she was too scared or headstrong to come clean. For this space between the two of us that I hate, but is necessary.

Katniss lets me cry, without a single word. She consoles me with touch; running her hands up and down my back or scratching my scalp. She just holds me, until there’s a giant wet spot on her t-shirt and all of my tears have dried up.

I pull out of her embrace and look up at her face, embarrassed and broken but not afraid to show it. Her beautiful grey eyes are glistening with unshed tears. “I’m really sorry, Peeta. I’m sorry I left. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Prim. Fuck. I’m sorry I haven’t said sorry until now.”

I nod my head, trying to ground myself. “I want to forgive you. I really do.” I take a shuddering breath. “And I hope that I someday do, but right now, I don’t.”

She nods her head, but takes a step back, away from me. Her arms wrap around herself protectively. “I understand. I just never thought I’d hear that come out of your mouth.”

......................................................................................................................................................................................................................

“If you stroke her right ear, she’ll stay asleep as you remove her from the seat,” Katniss whispers. She opens her door and hops out of the car, silent. I look back to Prim. The side of her head is pressed against the edge of the car seat, her mouth open, a little trail of drool dripping out of the left corner of her mouth. 

I do as Katniss says and stroke her exposed ear as I unclip her seatbelt and pull her from the car seat with the other hand. It definitely isn’t the easiest thing I’ve ever done, and I am unbelievably curious how Katniss discovered this little trick, but miraculously enough I’m able to remove Prim and tuck her against me without waking her.

I follow Katniss up the cobblestone walkway and into the house. She glances at me once or twice to make sure I’m following or holding Prim correctly or something else entirely, and each time her face is full of sorrow and it breaks my heart. 

I had to tell her that I haven’t forgiven her yet, but this is still a fucked up situation. I want to forgive her. I want to be with her. I want none of this betrayal to have ever happened.

Katniss shuts the door behind me, silently again—how the hell does she do that?—and together we lay Prim into her crib. I watch as she performs the rest of what must be Prim’s nightly routine: tightly wrap Prim in an elephant patterned fleece blanket, turn on the crescent moon shaped nightlight in the corner, put away the few toys scattered on the carpet, set up a pile of fresh pull-ups on the changing station, turn on the baby monitor. 

When she’s done, she leaves—without a single glance in my direction.

After a moment of empty silence, I sit in the corner and put my head in my hands, utterly lost. This morning we talked about sleeping in the same room, in the same bed, so she wouldn’t have any nightmares. The same bed where we left all of this shit behind last night and remembered the love we had. And not just remembered—we fucking relived it. We didn’t reminisce; we travelled back in time and fell into our role of Young Love Couple #2 and drowned ourselves in each other’s bodies. And I want to do it again. So badly. 

But how am I supposed to do sleep next to her now? After everything we just said to each other? Maybe I should just leave. Go home and see Gale and get a moment to breathe without her near me, making it hard to think. 

Prim’s soft breathing fills the hurt inside me that’s threatening to take over. In the light of her nightlight, only her soft, perfectly round nose is visible, but I can’t take my eyes off of it. I made that nose. That nose is fifty percent my DNA. And that blows my fucking mind. 

But it’s also fifty percent Katniss. And as much as I don’t trust her and haven’t forgiven her for leaving me, she’s the other half of my daughter, and I need to try to move past our issues so we can raise our daughter well. 

I stand up, officially done moping. I have some shit I need to say. Now.

I exit Prim’s room as quietly as possible, and march to Katniss’s. I push open the door and begin to strip my clothes off. Katniss is sitting up, leaning against her headboard. She narrows her eyes as my jeans hit the floor.

“Look, we still have shit that isn’t resolved. Every time I look at you I either want to jump your bones or scream until I lose my voice. But I’m willing to start over—for the most part. I can’t say that I won’t get mad at you sometimes because you left and took Prim from me, but I will try to forgive and try not to throw it in your face in every other conversation we have. But I have two conditions. Are you ready to hear them?”

“I guess so,” she says, setting her book on her nightstand.

I kick my shoes and my fallen jeans off and into the corner. “Number one: you do not have a say on when I can see my daughter. I realize that you have been her primary caregiver these last two years, but you were only that because I didn’t know she existed. You know that if I did, I would have been there every single second. So if this is a clean state, you can’t act like you have any more claim to her than I do. Because you don’t and you never should have. You do have the right to help me with things I don’t know how to do when it comes to raising her, but you will never have the right to exclude me. Never again. Can you agree to that?”

She nods her head, hesitating only slightly. “Yes—but you can’t take her away from me, either. Without my permission. From now on, we do things together.”

“Agreed. Now, number two: I will sleep in here three nights a week. The other nights I will stay in the guest room. If you have any nightmares, you can come in and stay with me until you calm down, but we need a little bit of separation so I can forgive you without being confused by my desire to be with you…psychically.”

This time she hesitates for several seconds before nodding. 

“I know that you have nightmares, Katniss,” I say softly, taking a step in her direction, “but you have to know that being close to each other is going to be hard now that we aren’t together anymore. And to me, a clean slate means that if we are going to find each other again, we have to do it without being intimate too quickly.”

She runs her hands through her hair, and releases a heavy sigh. “I get it. It’s for the best. It just…sucks. This distance sucks. And I know I brought it on myself, but it still sucks.”

A smile tugs at my lips. “Yeah. It really does.” I pull my shirt off over my head and walk around to the other side of bed. 

Katniss turns off the light and snuggles down into the covers alongside me. It’s quiet. The only sounds are the static from the baby monitor and a passing car coming through the open window. Her warm breath skims along my neck. It’s so weird to be close to her again. But magnificent. Painfully magnificent.

Katniss’s voice breaks the silence. “It’s good to be home.”

“In Virginia?” I ask.

“Something like that.”


	6. Chapter 6

The next week passes smoothly. Katniss and I develop a rhythm. On the days I work, she takes Prim to the studio and I join them for lunch, bringing sandwiches and cookies from the bakery; then at night, we meet back at her place and cook dinner before we spend the night watching animated movies with Prim squeezed between us on the couch, playing with her toys and giggling at the screen. On the days I don’t work, we go to the studio together and I hang with Prim while Katniss does the work she needs to do without watching her before we go home and order in Chinese and unpack Katniss’s things. It’s a good rhythm. A clean rhythm. A drama free rhythm. Our clean slate seems to be really working.

But I still haven’t spent any time alone with Prim, with Katniss more than twenty feet away. And I don’t know if it’s on purpose or if we just haven’t found the time.

When I wake up on Sunday morning, the day when neither of us work, Katniss is wrapped around me like a vine, her head buried in my neck. I’ve spent the last four nights in the extra bedroom, on a futon Gale and I found in our basement from our college days. I have a nice little set up in here now, with most of my clothes in the closet and a nightstand where I keep whatever book I’m reading and my alarm clock. But none of it compares to this: Katniss at my side. 

Before I focus on the beautiful woman beside me, I strain my ears to hear Prim from across the hall. Luckily, it’s silent. Prim is still asleep, just like her mother.

Katniss nuzzles my neck and begins to stretch her toes and calves, a telltale sign she’s waking up. My high school self wants to pretend to be asleep to see what she does when she realizes we are plastered together, but I act like a grown up and gently stroke her hair, nudging her awake. She tumbled into my room last night around three a.m., shaking and sweating. As afraid as I was—that I am—to be so close to her, I couldn’t turn her away. I’m not a monster.

When her eyes finally open, they find mine almost instantly, like they always have. When were together, we always woke up like this: me first, then her, and within seconds we would lock eyes. It’s been years since we’ve done this, but holding her, it feels like time doesn’t exist at all. Like we woke up like this yesterday—which we definitely did not. Yesterday I woke up with a crick in my neck so bad I thought I was paralyzed. Damn futon.

“Hi,” she whispers, her cheeks reddening. 

“Hi,” I whisper back. I brush a lock of hair behind her ear without thinking. She leans into my touch and a shiver runs up my back.

“I really want to kiss you, Peeta.” I stop breathing. “I’m not going to,” she quickly continues. “I just thought I should tell you when I have the urge to kiss you—for the sake of being honest in this whole clean slate thing.” 

I raise my eyebrows. “Oh, really?”

She smiles, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. “Yes, really.” Her eyes flick down to my lips and I lick them unconsciously. “I think that’s only fair.”

I nod my head, but pull away before either of us is tempted to break the delicate pattern we’ve put ourselves in. Prim is now my first priority and my plan is to only focus on her. Katniss is a distraction; a fantastic, beautiful, intelligent distraction, but I need to be a good father for my newly acquired daughter without the distraction of my precarious relationship with her. 

I slip out of bed and head for the closet. “I have an idea,” I say, grabbing a plaid button-up off one of the hangers. “What if I introduced Prim to Gale?”

As I turn back around, I catch a hint of the frown on Katniss’s face before she can cover it up. She tugs at the end of her braid. “Uh, sure. Let me just pack her bag and then we can head out.” 

I pick at the buttons on my shirt, avoiding her eyes. “I was thinking I could do it alone,” I mumble.

Silence.

She’s silent for so long that I can’t help myself—I look up and meet her eyes. She’s biting her lip, but in general, she doesn’t look too upset. She isn’t glaring at me—like she loves to do so much; she isn’t digging her nails into her forearm—something she does when she’s trying not to scream. She’s just nibbling on her lip, the nervous tick I’ve loved since I first saw her do it in Earth Science in ninth grade during our first test of the year.

I turn back around and snag a pair of jeans from the top shelf of the closet. She has no right to be angry—though it doesn’t look like she is. Prim is my daughter and it makes sense that she visits Gale and gets to know him. I mean, if Katniss and I never move past our history and it stays like this, Gale will be a part of Prim’s life, probably to the point that Prim will stay over at my place some nights.

I turn back to Katniss as I button my jeans, but she still hasn’t moved or said a word. Luckily, she is still breathing—I can tell by rise and fall of her delicate shoulders. 

“Katniss, I don’t see why you are making a big deal out of this,” I finally say, unable to stand the silence for one more second. “She’s my daughter. I should be able to spend time with her without you there, critiquing my every move.”

“I don’t critique,” she whispers, so soft I almost don’t hear it. 

I have to force myself not to scoff. “Last night you glared at me the whole time I was changing her diaper—yes, I saw you hiding in the hall. And you do that almost every time I help her with something. I may be new at the whole parenting thing, but that doesn’t mean I’m inept.” 

“I wasn’t glaring!” she snaps. “I was just looking.”

I don’t refute her. It’s a waste of time. “The point is this: Gale is my best friend and my roommate. Prim will obviously meet him at some point, so why not now? Why not today?”

She crawls off the futon, pulling at the tiny shorts she went to bed in. They should be illegal, those damn shorts. Maybe I should put in that in the “clean slate clause.” No clothes that intentionally make the other want to strip them naked and ravish them. 

“I thought it would be nice for the three of us to hang out together, without work. But sure, feel free to introduce Prim to Gale. Let me just pack her travel bag.” She leaves the room and heads down the hall toward the kitchen. 

I don’t know why I didn’t consider that when this idea popped into my head. I just knew I needed some space from Katniss, both because she’s Katniss and because I want to be alone with Prim. Well, not completely alone. Gale will be there. But without Katniss. Which so ironic I can barely stand it. During these last two and a half years without her, all I wanted was to be with her again. And now that she’s back again, all I can do is find reasons to be sneak away from her. 

I follow Katniss to the kitchen, where she is dutifully packing Prim’s gray travel bag. Looking at her ruins my idea of a mom. Growing up, my mother treated me and my brothers like garbage. But she was my only view of what a mother is and what a mother does. And then I met Katniss—who never wanted to be a mother in the first place—so it was hard to picture what she would be like as one. I knew she would be a great one because she loved her friends fiercely and helped them in every situation she could, but my mother image of her was never solid. 

But seeing her now, it’s astounding. Being a mother is as simple as breathing to her. It’s become who she is. Katniss is selfish, that’s a fact. But when she’s with Prim, or even talking about her, she’s the definition of unselfish. She’s an incredible mom—I’ve learned that in the little time I’ve seen her in action.

And I’m barely scraping by as a Dad.

“You know how much I wanted to be a Dad,” I say, leaning against the counter next to her. 

“Yes, I know,” she says through clenched teeth. She tosses the baby wipes into the bag with a little too much force. “Please don’t throw that in my face again. Clean slate, remember?” Her shoulders are stiff and curved, like a cat ready to pounce. 

I shake my head. “No, I wasn’t going to say that.” She turns to me now, her posture relaxing. I clear my throat and meet her eyes, shame infiltrating me veins. “I’ve always wanted to be a Dad, and I’m not.” 

“Peeta—” she starts, but I cut her off.

“I’m not, Katniss. I just met her a week ago, and she doesn’t even know who I am. I may be her father, but I’m not her Dad yet.” Katniss puts her hand on my forearm and warmth fills my bones. “But I really want to be. I want to be with her every step of the way, and I want her and you to want me to be there for every step.”

“We—I do, Peeta. I want you there.” 

I nod my head, but I don’t feel the words. Not yet. “I’m just trying to be a Dad, okay? I don’t want to be the boyfriend or ‘mommy’s best friend’ or anything else. I want to be her Dad. That’s what I’m trying to do today. I’m trying to be her Dad.” I shake my head. "I'm not trying to make this sound like a guilt trip."

She nods her head. “I know. I get it. And I don’t mean to be annoyed or worried or whatever that you want to be alone with her.” She removes her hand from my arm and tucks her bangs behind her ear. “I’m just so used to doing this alone. I still feel like...a single parent.”

The sting radiates through my whole body and I fight the urge to scream at her. Scream that this is her fault. That she never had to be a single parent. That she is a selfish bitch who stole my right to a Dad, who is making me doubt the thing I’ve wanted to be since I could walk. But I promised her that we would stop having the same fight over and over again. That we would have a clean slate. So I just nod my head back and say, “Well you aren’t anymore.”

...........................................................................................................................................................................................................................

Katniss wakes up Prim and the three of us have breakfast before we pile into the car. She wanted to at least drop Prim off. Then she’s going to go home to have a beer and relax. 

“I haven’t had alone time in two and half years,” she says as she pulls away from the curb. “I may just go home and die of shock.”

I smile. “It will be good for you. You can loosen up for the first time in your life.”

She quickly shoots a glare at me before moving her eyes back to the road. “Oh, you’re so funny, Peeta. A fucking comedic genius,” she deadpans.

I bark out a laugh—and cause Prim to giggle in the backseat. Katniss’s glare turns into a smile in a millisecond, and her eyes drift to the backseat where Prim sits, tucked comfortably into her car seat. I have to admit, that’s one thing I’ve nailed in the last week. I’m able to strap her into that thing in a matter of seconds, before she has time to squirm away or cry. Car seat sprints are obviously my calling. 

We pull up in front of my house within ten minutes and I grab Prim while Katniss snatches her bag and foldable crib from the trunk. 

It’s still relatively early in the day—not even eleven yet—but I’m sure Gale is awake. He’s always been an early riser. I’m sure it has something to do with his childhood. He used to hunt every weekend until he was nineteen—legally or not. But even now, when his job has such a loose schedule, he likes to wake up early and hang out on the back porch, drinking coffee and strumming his guitar. 

Prim claps her hands and gabbles happily to herself as Katniss falls in line with me. We walk in unison to the front door, and the final steps fill me with a sense of foreboding. It’s subtle, but true and fierce. 

Before either of us have time to reach for the knob, the screen door flies open and out pops Gale, with a smile so microscopic, it’s invisible. He leans against the door jam and his eyes flick to Katniss, uninterested. 

“Well, well, well,” he drawls, crossing his arms. His gaze turns icy. “Look what the cat dragged in. After it sprinted out of town with zero notice and ruined lives.”

Part of me wants to jump in and defend Katniss. But an even bigger part of me is bursting with happiness that Gale will always be, without a doubt, on my side. I fight the sudden smile that pulls at my lips.

Katniss stiffens beside me. “It’s good to see you, Gale. And to see you’ve started going bald,” she hisses. Her eyes are just as cold and threatening as his.

Gale relaxes his posture even more, but I can tell he’s getting angrier and angrier by the second. “Well, it’s refreshing to see you made the choice to keep the baby weight.”

Okay, now I have to step in. “Play nice, guys.” I shift Prim to my other hip and Gale looks away from Katniss and towards the angel in my arms. “Gale. This is Prim.” 

Gale takes a step towards us and his entire demeanor shifts. “No way is she yours,” he chirps, his baby talk on high. “She’s way too beautiful.” Gale reaches his hand out to her and shakes her limp hand enthusiastically, causing her whole arm to wiggle. Prim giggles and brings a hand to her face shyly. “I’m Gale, little miss.” 

Prim squirms in my arms, urging me to let her down. I place her on the ground and she wobbles to Gale, still giggling. She wraps her little arms around his left leg and looks up at him, smiling so big it takes up her tiny face. He grins back, looking younger than I’ve ever seen him.

“Okay, now that you’re acquainted, let’s go inside,” I say. 

Gale takes a step into the house and Prim follows him. We all do. When we’re all inside, Katniss breaks off and goes into the corner of the living room and sets up Prim’s crib. I help her.

It doesn’t take long with the two of us, even with us both looking over our shoulders every couple seconds to make sure Prim is safe and getting along with Gale. The two of them are sitting on the ground playing some uncoordinated, infant version of patty-cake. 

“Just for the record,” I whisper, making sure Gale can’t hear me. “Gale’s wrong. He was just trying to be a dick.”

Katniss glances at me. “What?” She places the travel bag into the crib. 

“You look exactly the same as you did in high school. No ‘baby weight’ in sight.” 

She rolls her eyes, but I can see that’s she’s fighting a smile. “Shut up,” she whispers back, looking down at the crib.

My chest fills involuntarily. “Never.”

..............................................................................................................................................................................................................................

Katniss kissed Prim goodbye about a dozen times before she left, promising to be back at five so the three of us could have dinner together. She made it obvious that Gale was not invited. Since then, Prim hasn’t stopped moving. She’s played with every toy we brought with her, as well as the things she’s found: the remotes, the wooden coasters, Gale’s capo, sticky tack. It wasn’t until she grabbed for Gale’s Macallan 1939 scotch that we had to step in. 

Prim waddles around and begins to play fetch with herself, so I plop down on the couch and watch her; Gale sits beside me. I take a deep breath and prepare for the onslaught. 

“Soooooo….” he begins tentatively, releasing a heavy sigh. “Katniss in the flesh.” He says her name with a snarl.

“Yep.”

He turns to me. “Please tell me you aren’t falling for her bullshit, Peeta. Because I swear to God, if she leaves you in the dust again, and I have to spend another three miserable years watching you turn into a shell of a man, I will straight up murder that bitch.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” I say. “Calm down with the blatant animosity. We’re trying to start over.”

He raises his eyes eyebrows at me. “‘Start over.’” The snide tone and the use of air quotes pisses me off. “Are you fucking kidding? The two of you can’t start over.”

I run a hand over my face. I really don’t want to hear this. “Gale—”

“There’s too much history,” he cuts me off. “She betrayed to you for almost three fucking years. She had a kid without you.” He stands up, clenching his fists, and it’s apparent that his disdain has turned into pure rage. “She’s a lying cunt who broke your heart.”

Without thinking, I stand up and push him as hard as I can; he stumbles back a foot. I point a finger at him, barely containing my own rage, which is boiling in my veins and begging me to punch him in the face until his blood spills onto the carpet. I’ve never had a feeling like this towards Gale before and it both shocks me and makes me even more pissed. I speak quietly and slowly, pointing my finger at him. “Don’t you ever call her that again.” Each word is short and hard, spit out through my teeth.

Gale doesn’t say anything. He just sits back on the couch. I dig my nails into my palms and stare at the ground for several moments before I am able to join him again.

My eyes go back to Prim. She’s decided to build with her blocks now. I slide off the couch and join her, constructing my own tower next to hers, and breathe deeply in and out of my nose, calming myself. Prim giggles and tosses her hand at me; my tower tumbles to the ground.

“How dare you?” I say with an exaggerated gasp, holding back a laugh. I clutch my chest in fake pain and Prim laughs some more. She’s learning sarcasm young. I like that.

I poke her own tower and we watch it fall together; she giggles again and claps her hands. But she immediately goes back to the blocks and starts to build again. A smile stays on her innocent face, reminding me so much of the pictures I have shoved in the back of my closet somewhere of me when I was a kid. 

The more time I spend with her, the more I see myself in her face and mannerisms. She smiles at everything—like me; her smile is bright and young and eternal. She taps her fingers on her lap when she sits in the car, but only then. And she tilts her head when she’s hearing something new for the first time. I did all of these growing up and still do them today. They seem meaningless and generic for a growing infant, but they feel meaningful and unique to me.

“You’re a natural, Peeta.” 

I turn my head towards Gale. All the anger from before has evaporated in the few minutes I’ve spent with Prim. He nods at her, his face full of some emotion I can’t pinpoint.

“And as much as I still hate Katniss for everything she did, I’m glad she eventually came back. You’re going to be a good dad.” He stands up and exits the room, clapping me on the back once as he goes. 

I sure hope so.


	7. Chapter 7

I can’t help it. 

I know I should resist my urges and think about everything that’s happened between us. But when I come home from work to find Katniss sitting on the couch wearing a see-through white shirt, it tips me over the edge. And I tumble into my desires.

I head for the shower, tearing off my clothes as quickly as possible, and as soon as the scalding water hits my head, I wrap my hand around my cock and groan in relief. I relive our moment together two weeks ago when everything felt right—if only for a moment. When I sunk into her wetness and felt her squeeze around me as she came.

Needless to say, I come in an embarrassingly short amount of time.

When the guilt and anger fade and I finish _actually_ showering, I exit the bathroom and find Prim bouncing around to whatever is playing on the TV; her blonde curls fall and rise with her feet. When she sees me, she screams—that high-pitch, joyful kid scream—and runs to me. I pick her up and swing her around, smiling and laughing with her.

It’s this, this right here, that makes it seem like my life is perfect. Like the future I always imagined for myself has come true. This snarky angel is mine and I cherish her with all of my heart. I kiss her forehead and bury my face in her curls as I pull her to my side; she wraps her little legs around me. Her hair smells like baby oil and strawberry shampoo and it has me fighting tears. 

“Hello, baby girl.” She buries her face in my neck and giggles. 

How did I get here? When did she become so affectionate? She’s always been kind and fun—like ninety percent of toddlers—but now she’s clinging to me like I’m someone important. 

Shit, am I reading too much into this?

Katniss stands up from the couch. Unfortunately, she hasn’t changed out of her shirt, but she walks towards us with her hands crossed over her chest. She watches as Prim snuggles into me and wraps her tiny arms around my neck; warmth spreads through my chest.

“I figured I would have dinner made by the time you guys got home. Why are you here already?” I ask Katniss. 

She shrugs. “Prim was a little fussy today—she wouldn’t take her nap at the studio. So I just decided to cut the day short and see if she would fall asleep in her crib here. She did.” She runs a hand through her loose hair and yawns. “I’ve been on the phone with an artist or I would have started cooking. I didn’t realize how late it is.” 

It’s barely past six, but I don’t say that to her. She hasn’t been sleeping well the last few nights—at least that’s what she told me. We haven’t been sleeping in the same bed. I know I promised I would sleep with her some nights, but I keep on making excuses not to: I have to wake up early, her bed hurts my back, my futon is too small for two people—just bullshit excuses that she must see through. 

I also know I shouldn’t feel guilty about it, but I do. Back when we were together, I swore I would always be there when she needed me to be. And even though we aren’t together anymore, I can’t help but feel like every time I say “goodnight” to her and she’s not at my side, I’m breaking that promise. 

Why is it that even after everything that’s happened, I’m still wrapped around her finger?

“But I have some good news,” she says, stifling a second yawn.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. You know that artist I was telling you about?”

I nod my head slowly, remembering. “I think so. Finn Something, right?”

“Finnick, actually. Finnick Odair. Anyway, he’s coming to town in two days to record in the studio.”

“That’s awesome, Katniss!” And I’m not lying. She’s been stressed for days now—about this Finnick dude and bunch of other studio shit—so I’m glad that something good has come out of all the stress.

I take a step forward to hug her, but realize that Prim doesn’t really have hold on me and I should probably keep a tight grip on her. So I do the only thing I can do: I hold up my hand for a high five.

She stares at it for a little too long, her eyebrows furrowing, before she smacks it with her own. And I feel like a total fucking moron.

“I’m sorry,” I say immediately. “That was super weird.”

She nods her head, not even an ounce of humor or happiness on her face. Shit. She was just grinning a second ago—or at least Katniss’s version of a grin. Which basically means a smile where she actually shows some of her teeth. And now I’ve fucked it all up. 

I just don’t know what to do anymore. I literally fucked myself in the shower with the hand I just high fived her with—while I was thinking about her, no less—but I can’t even find it in myself to help her fall asleep at night.

What the hell is wrong with me?

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He’s literally the most handsome man I’ve ever seen. 

It’s obvious that he’s a singer—I’m sure even if he had the most tone deaf voice in the entire world, he would sell albums like drugs to every woman in the world, young and old. But he looks like the definition of a celebrity: copper hair elegantly disheveled, bright green eyes that appear to be looking into your soul, broad shoulders that make you feel like he could throw you over his shoulder whenever he felt like it. 

I’ve never really been overly self-confident or self-conscience about my looks, but right now I feel like a troll who lives under a bridge.

“I’m Finnick Odair,” he says to me when I walk out of the kitchen with Prim on my hip and an apron on. Yeah. An apron. And not one of the white ones I wear at work. One of Katniss’s that has a large dandelion on the front. 

I take his outstretched hand, balancing Prim for a quick second. “Peeta Mellark.”

He nods his head, a genuine smile on his handsome face, his emerald eyes bright. “I know. Katniss has told me all about you.” He drifts his gaze to Prim. “Hi, Prim. Do you remember me?”

She nods shyly. “Finny.”

He grins at her. “Only you are allowed to call me that, beautiful.” He winks at her and she giggles—though I’m sure she has no idea what that gesture means. 

Katniss finally comes through the door and shuts it behind her. She heads for Prim immediately.

Prim throws her hands up in the air with excitement and practically launches herself out of my grasp. Luckily, Katniss is right there to get her and nothing terrible happens. 

“Hey, Peeta,” Katniss greets me when Prim is tucked into her side and pulling on her braid. “I assume there were no issues.”

“No, everything was fine. Just making dinner.” 

Katniss left me alone with Prim while she went into the office for a couple of hours. I actually forgot that she was picking up Mr. Gives Everyone An Inferiority Complex from the airport today. Thankfully, lasagna is baking away, which means we will have plenty. 

“Um, do guys want a drink? Water or beer or something.” 

Gale turns his head to Katniss and gives her a knowing look. “Hey, Kat, why don’t you make us some of your famous old fashioneds?”

I raise my eyebrows at Katniss. First of all: Kat? Katniss has never in her life liked nicknames. In fact, I tried to call her Kat once when we first starting dating and she threatened to punch me in the balls. And second of all: famous old fashioned? How the fuck does he know she makes a good old fashioned?

She shakes her head at him, but she’s smiling. Smiling like she’s reliving a fond memory—an inside joke of some kind. “Finnick, it’s a Tuesday night. We aren’t going to get drunk on a Tuesday with our daughter here.”

The spark of my pulse at her admitting to someone that Prim is _our_ daughter is overshadowed by the pit in my stomach that’s growing bigger and bigger as I imagine the history between these two. 

Finnick’s phone rings and he excuses himself—walking down the hallway until his voice is just a murmur. I take the opportunity to go the kitchen and get away from Katniss before I say something I regret. Like how she fucking lied when she said she had never slept with anyone but me.

But Katniss follows me. I pick up the knife I set aside when I heard the door open and continue chopping cucumbers for the salad. She leans against the adjacent counter and watches me work.

“So no problems?” she says.

“I literally just said that not a minute ago, _Kat_ ,” I sneer, unable to mask my feelings. God, I’m an asshole. I have no right to be angry or jealous or whatever the fuck I’m feeling right now. Katniss can do whatever the hell she wants. 

Before she has the chance to say anything, Finnick finds his way to the kitchen. He pockets his phone with an uncomfortable look on his face.

“That was the hotel you booked for me, Kat,” he says. I wince. “Apparently the room was double-booked and I got booted. And there’s no other vacancies at the hotel until tomorrow. Some kind of business convention. What are some other hotels in this town so I can make a reservation?”

“Just crash here,” she replies—and my knife almost goes through my hand. Here? Well, fuck. Looks like I’m staying my place tonight. “There’s a futon set up in the spare room already.”

“Awesome.”

Yeah. Awesome. 

...........................................................................................................................................................................................................................

Dinner is actually pretty cordial. Finnick and Katniss joke and chat and laugh, and I stew quietly at the end of the table, helping Prim get some food into her mouth, not just on her face and clothes. I only imagine punching Finnick in the face once—when he places his hand on Katniss’s as they laugh at a joke I don’t understand.

And it makes me pissed. I’m pissed that I’m pissed. How fucking nuts is that? I hate that seeing Katniss have a good time with this Greek God makes me angry and jealous. We broke up a billion years ago and she’s broken my heart into a million pieces—this shouldn’t hurt me at all. I should be immune.

But I’m not. Because I’ve never moved on, and laughing with this guy makes it seem like she did.

When the two of them sit down on the couch after cleaning up after dinner, I put Prim to bed and change the sheets on the futon. Katniss walks in while I’m throwing my electric razor and toothbrush into a backpack.

“What are you doing?”

I nod my head towards the living room. “Mr. Handsome’s staying here tonight, so I’m headed home.”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “Seriously, Peeta? Can’t you just stay in my room? Or are the flannel sheets too warm?” 

Fuck me. “Fine. Whatever.”

I walk into her bedroom and throw myself down onto the covers, setting the baby monitor on the nightstand. After days of avoiding this and her, I find myself sleeping next to Katniss on the worst night possible. When I’m fuming and jealous of this guy she seems to like too much for my taste—even if it is just friendship. 

I’ve never been good with jealousy. Loving Katniss from afar while I was growing up was hard. She didn’t date much, but when she did, I would sink into a pointless depression until they broke up. So when I finally got the girl, I was never okay with letting her go. I got jealous. I never acted on it, or got really macho about it, but I didn’t like seeing her with other guys. I knew she would always be faithful. It was the dudes that looked at her like a piece of meat that I didn’t trust.

I have tucked myself under the sheets and gotten comfortable when Katniss joins me a half an hour later. She strips down to her cotton panties and does the fascinating thing where she removes her bra through her sleeve before she climbs into bed next to me. 

Her bed is small, so there’s almost no way that we can’t touch in some way; a grazed toe here, a bumped knee there. She rolls over on her side and faces me. I can tell that she’s in a fine mood, that she had a good time with Mr. Celebrity. But I can also see that she isn’t happy with me. 

“What the hell, Peeta?” she whispers, her face inches from mine. “What’s up your ass—and could you remove it posthaste?”

I chuckle in spite of myself. But then I go back to how I was feeling before she walked in here: jealous, upset, angry, miserable. “I don’t like that guy,” I grumble.

She shakes her at me. “You are the worst liar ever.”

“And you’re the best.” Fuck. I shouldn’t have said that.

She narrows her eyes at me. “What are you referring to now, Peeta? How did I lie to you this time? I brought a musician home and let him stay the night—how is that a lie? Maybe I should have consulted you before I invited him to stay, but I didn’t think it would be a big deal.”

“Oh, he’s a just a ‘musician’?” I cut in. “Somehow I doubt that.”

She exhales and gives me that look that I hate. The look that says: “Now I understand and I’m disappointed that you are feeling this way.” She used to give it to me whenever we were in the stupid predicament we are in right now. 

“You’re jealous of him,” she says simply. 

I can’t deny it, so I just look away from her like a child. “He is more than just a musician,” I counter. 

She releases a heavy sigh that makes me look at her again. “We dated for a couple weeks. About a year ago.”

“And that’s why I’m jealous, Katniss,” I explain, butting in again before she can clarify her statement. “Because you lied about who he was and you lied about not fucking anyone else but me!” The last part comes out as a shout, louder than I wanted or intended it to. 

She glares at me. “I didn’t lie about that, asshole. I said we dated—not that we fucked. You are allowed to date without sex—didn’t you know that? Oh right, I forgot. You obviously don’t. You don’t even know what a date is anymore. You’ve spent the last few years fucking everyone who shows even the slightest interest in you—without going through the burden of getting to know them on a date.” 

I glare back at her. My anger is about to pour out, ugly and sarcastic. “Why did I do that, Katniss? Do you remember? I _think_ I do. I _think_ it’s because you left me—right after we had sex, I may add. You fucked me and bolted.” I can see her angry eyes become glassy with tears, but I can’t stop. “So yeah, I had sex. I had a lot of sex. And I never risked my heart—my heart so fucking broken it probably won’t ever be able to put itself back together. But you did, love. You tried to find someone new to date and fall in love with.” I roll over, turning my back to her. “I will never be able to do that.” 

It’s silent for a long time after that. So quiet, I think she has fallen asleep. I know I probably shouldn’t have said those things. We’ve created a delicate balance between the two of us. A balance that depends on moving past all the hurt and focusing on our love of Prim. 

But it’s a lie.

All of this is a lie. We tiptoe around the hurt like it’s a landmine. But just like a landmine, the hurt is going to explode when we don’t expect it. Explode when we take one wrong step and break the peace. Like tonight. We will never have a "clean slate." There is too much history.

“I was trying to start over.” Katniss’s voice is so soft and forgiving, unlike it was before. “I thought I could try to move on, to find someone new—I won’t deny that. I thought that if I could find someone else it would mean I was supposed to leave you.” My heart contracts in my chest. “But I didn’t, Peeta. I barely went on three dates with Finnick. It never felt right.” 

I feel her shift closer to me on the bed, so close I can feel her breath on the back of my neck. Her hand runs down my spine and all of the tension slips out of my body, in spite of everything. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

And then she moves to the far edge of the bed so not even an inch of us is touching.

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The next morning is awkward to say the least. We are more polite to each other than we have ever been—now even more afraid to ruin our attempt at a clean slate again. Or, more accurately, pretending like a clean slate is still a thing we could do. 

Finnick is fucking oblivious, though. Or at least he acts like it. He makes merry chit-chat with both of us all through breakfast, and by the time the two of them are ready to leave for the studio, he acts as if we are best friends.

“Hey, I have an idea,” he says to me as Katniss leaves the table to grab her purse. “I could watch Prim tonight and you two could go have some fun. It’s the least I could do for you guys after letting me stay here last night.” 

I hesitate for a minute. It could be nice to get some space from Katniss without feeling guilty about it—and it would be great for her to have some time off. I know she got it last week when I took Prim to meet Gale, but she works so damn hard with Prim and she deserves free time more than just every few weeks. 

But I don’t know if I can trust this Finnick guy. I barely know him.

“Have you watched her before?” I ask.

He nods. “A couple times.” I try not to get angry at that. “After Kat and I had our attempt at dating, we became pretty good friends. I watched Prim when she had to work late.” He shakes his head, a warm smile on his face. “God, that was a disaster. I was trying to get over my ex, Annie, and she was...” he trails off and locks eyes with me. “You know.” 

I look down at my shoes, at a loss for words. I know all too well.

“Look,” he starts back up again. “I know it’s none of my business, but—”

“No, it’s not,” I cut him off. I don’t need his opinion or his advice.

He nods his head. “Message received. So can I watch her tonight or what?”

I reluctantly nod my head back. “Fine, but only for an hour or so.”

..........................................................................................................................................................................................................................

I tuck Prim into bed alone, Katniss chatting with Finnick in the living room. It’s a little past eight o’clock, but I feel more comfortable letting Finnick watch her if she’s just sleeping and probably won’t need any attending to. 

I sit in the rocking chair and watch Prim blink her eyes in that sleepy toddler way—where they want to stay up, but their bodies want them to fall asleep. 

“Daddy?”

Time freezes for a moment. But then I shoot from the chair and practically jump the entire distance to Prim’s crib. 

“Prim?” I ask quietly. Did she seriously just say what I think she said?

“Peeda,” she says—and my heart drops. Guess not. 

“Yes?” 

“You my daddy?”

I don’t really think about. I don’t consider whether or not this would piss off Katniss. Or fuck, whether or not it would hurt Prim—though I hope it doesn’t. I just tell her the truth, my heart clenching in my chest. 

“Yes, baby girl. I’m your daddy—if you’ll have me.” I reach through the wooden slats and stroke her nose with the tip of my finger. 

She nods her head sleepily. “Pwease.” 

She falls asleep shortly after that. But I just sit on the floor next to her, trying not to scream or cry from joy, and watch her small body rise and fall with her breathing in the dim light of her nightlight. 

It isn’t until my back starts to ache from the weird position I’ve been sitting in that I get up. I creep out of Prim’s room and close the door quietly before I run into the living room.  
Katniss is standing by the door, ready to go. I barely wave goodbye to Finnick before I grab Katniss’s arm and pull her from the house. 

“Where are we going?” she asks, but I don’t answer her. The plan was for me to go home and hang out with Gale and for Katniss to go to this local café that has her favorite cheesecake and read for a while. But fuck those plans. 

As soon as we finish walking the four blocks to the park, I move in front of her, cutting her off mid-stride.

“Prim called me daddy,” I say, without waiting for her to say anything. “She called me daddy, Katniss!”

Katniss looks at me, startled. “She did?” I nod my head, almost maniacally. But I can’t help it. Prim called me Daddy! I’m her father and now she finally knows—or at least, she knows for sure. Kids are way more perceptive that we give them credit for. Who knows how long she’s considered me her dad. That thought makes my heart want to explode.

She smiles, the first genuine smile I think I’ve ever seen on her. “That’s fantastic, Peeta.” And I can tell she means it. Her eyes are focused on mine, bright and honest. 

I pull her into my arms instantly, forgetting all the bullshit awkwardness from earlier—and since she’s come back into my life in general. She wraps her arms around me and clenches me tightly, like she’s been waiting for this moment to happen for far too long. I nuzzle into hair and the Katniss scent almost makes me choke. Why does this feel so perfect when every other moment with her feels so fucking hopeless?

“I want to kiss you,” I whisper into her ear, remembering what she said a few days ago. But I pull away, knowing in my heart that I shouldn’t act on it. Her hands skim down my face and back as she lets me go. When I find her gaze, I see hurt and desperation so familiar it makes me want to punch everything in sight. It’s so familiar because I see it in myself every time I look in the mirror.

We both stand there, with pregnant silence falling around us; only the crickets and the tail end of the sunset as company. I can see from her perused lips that she has something she wants to say, just like I do. But she’s never been one to say what she’s thinking or feeling, and I will never be the person to break this kind of empty silence ever again.

I turn to head towards small lake that’s just up ahead, when she takes the plunge, her words spoken in soft anguish. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever be happy without you, Peeta.” 

I turn back around. I don’t know if it’s a lack of sleep or if she’s hurting from the awkwardness just as much as I am. But as the first tear hits her cheek, I know that this is it. This is the moment we’ve been building towards since we crossed paths in that grocery store sixteen days ago. We’ve yelled and fucked and made desperate claims of peace, but this is what it all boils down to: the pain of being apart.

Unlike she used to when we were dating, she doesn’t try to hide the tears or wipe them away as quickly as possible. She’s lets them pour down her cheeks, her chin, her neck—until they disappear into her collar. 

“Why do you think I came back here?” 

My face falls—I know it does. Because it feels like my entire being falls, if that’s even possible. 

“I’m selfish, remember?” she says with a shrug of her shoulder, though the statement seems to make her cry even harder. “I came back here for you. Telling you about Prim was a part of it, but I’m tired of telling you and everybody else that I did it for anything else but you. I came back here because I’ve been broken my whole fucking life and you’re the only one who knows how to fix me.” 

I don’t know what to do. It feels as if I have a million words ready to pour out of me and nothing to say at the same time. 

“I’m destroyed, Katniss,” I settle on finally. “You destroyed me.”

It might not be what I’m supposed to say, but I say it anyway—and with zero anger or malice. It’s just a devastating fact. 

She nods her head as if she knew that was what I was going to say all along. “I know I did. I ran away scared and I ruined our lives.” She begins to cry harder, so hard I barely understand what she says next. “I’m so fucking sorry that I ruined you, Peeta. I’m so sorry you’re as broken as I am—that I caused you to be that broken. I didn’t mean to.” 

I don’t try to fight my tears either. They slide down my face with ease, as if they’ve been waiting for this moment to fall. For her to finally say that she’s sorry for hurting me. Not that she’s sorry for leaving or not telling me about Prim or for acting like a single parent when she never needed to be. Not saying she she’s sorry for doing those things, like she has, but that she’s sorry that doing all of those things hurt me. 

“I know that I won’t ever be truly happy without you, too,” I whisper, my voice garbled with spit. “That I’ll always feel empty without you. And I’m so afraid that we will never move past this hurt.”

She takes a step towards me. “Me too,” she cries back. “I’m afraid, too. But I will do anything. Anything so the three of us can be happy together.” 

“Me, too.” 

I take her face in my hands and wipe away a few of the tears, but it’s not enough. They continue to drip of her eyes like a leaky faucet. 

“I still love you, Peeta,” she sobs, pressing her forehead to mine. “I’ve loved you since our first date, and I will never stop.”

I can feel myself start to forgive her right here. I feel it in my bones. It’s crazy, I know. But hearing those words make it possible to forgive her. I’m not there yet, but it doesn’t seem impossible like it did not ten minutes ago. 

I kiss her then. It’s not a desperate or passionate or special kiss. But a kiss of necessity. A brief and normal kiss, like I’ve been doing it my whole life and will continue to do it until I die. 

“Can we just be broken together?” she pleads when I pull away.

My thumb grazes her beautiful bottom lip. “Maybe we can try.”


End file.
